


Nobility

by Mississippi_moon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-01-03 08:29:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21176435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mississippi_moon/pseuds/Mississippi_moon
Summary: The older Arthur got, the more he realized how awful nobles can be. Especially when they started giving his servants unwanted attention, and one manservant in particular seems to be a target...





	1. Chapter 1

Arthur was sick of nobles. 

It was a strange epiphany, but it was true. After all, he never would have expected that he would ever feel this way. When Arthur was younger, he used to live it when nobles visited from far-off lands. It gave him a rush of excitement—something to look forward to. Many of them came for tournaments, and Arthur always beat them. Then after, they would shower him with respect, and Arthur, in turn, respected them. Now, he wasn’t so sure. 

Arthur had come to realize that most nobles that visited were pig-headed, stuck-up, and frankly, they kissed up to him. Arthur understood that to a degree—he was the king, after all—but it still drove him mad. He much preferred Gwen’s company, or even Merlin’s (though he’d never admit  _ that)  _ any day. 

So when the time of Yule came, and Camelot was flooded with nobles and snowfall, Arthur couldn’t help but drag his feet a bit. 

“Rise and shine!” Merlin’s voice sing-songed, slicing through the serenity of the morning like a freshly-sharpened sword. 

That was all the warning Arthur received before the curtains flew open and flooded Arthur’s chambers with the beautiful cursed morning light. Arthur’s hands automatically launched a pillow in Merlin’s direction as he turned over, away from the oppressive light. 

“Lots to do today, sire,” Merlin said, unfazed by the assault. “The great feast is tonight, and you have several meetings with our guests. Come on.”

Arthur felt gentle but insistent hands grab his arms before the mattress disappeared under him. Good gods, Merlin was  _ lifting  _ him out of bed. When did Merlin get so strong? Arthur squirmed, successfully dislodging himself from Merlin’s grip and sending them both to the floor. Arthur glared right at Merlin, now fully awake. Merlin just smiled brightly from where he now sat on the floor. 

“Merlin. Please stop smiling,” Arthur huffed, peeling himself off the floor. 

“If you say so,” Merlin replied, still smiling. 

Arthur rolled his eyes, allowing Merlin to drag him over to his wardrobe and dress him. Merlin chattered chipperly, and Arthur half-listened. Even if he hated mornings, Arthur secretly hated them less when Merlin was there. 

“Lord Grey told me yesterday that he wants to have a small tournament between his knights and yours while he’s here. I told him it was a great idea, but of course his knights don’t stand a chance against Camelot’s. Oh, and then Lord Galantry—”

“Merlin, please, I can’t hear myself think.”

“Even if it were quiet, I don’t believe you are capable of thinking,” Merlin quipped, not missing a beat. “Besides, I am just trying to help. A lot of nobles came here yesterday, and while you were out training, I brought them their things and showed them to their rooms. So, I know how you can best cater to their needs.” 

Arthur just shook his head. 

“Truly, what would I  _ ever  _ do without you,  _ Mer _ lin?” Arthur asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Merlin just smiled again. “Crash and burn.” 

* * *

Arthur’s entire day was a constant reminder of how he’d grown to dislike most nobles. Merlin’s advice had actually been helpful, and Arthur was able to stay on top of all of their demands, and yet Arthur still felt exhausted by it all. Merlin has quieted as the day progressed, but he remained a steady rock at Arthur’s side, and he was grateful for it. Together they roamed the castle, checking on knights, ladies and lords, meeting with a few who wanted to discuss certain agreements or favors. 

Arthur had just finished speaking with Lord Galantry about trade routes and distribution when Lord Henry entered the council room. Merlin, who stood to Arthur’s left holding a pitcher of wine, tensed a bit at the sound. Arthur rolled his eyes at Merlin, but sighed internally along with him. 

_ Here we go again, _ Arthur thought. 

“Lord Henry, welcome. Can I help you with something?” Arthur greeted, hoping he conveyed warmth and not annoyance. 

Lord Henry bowed, his long, dark hair cascading along the sides of his face. When he met Arthur’s eyes, he smiled warmly, but for some reason, Arthur felt put-off by it. 

“Your majesty. Truly, all is well, but I should like to have someone tend to my fire. It is growing rather cold, and my hands are not functioning well enough to tend to it myself, not that I should have to.” 

For some reason, the lord’s eyes kept skirting around Arthur and settling on Merlin. Arthur cleared his throat. 

“Of course. I do apologize. Genevieve usually tends to the fires. Perhaps she overlooked—”

“Ah, but your manservant looks quite... capable. And he is here now.”

Arthur felt Merlin tense up next to him again. Or maybe that was Arthur, or both of them. It wasn’t the first time a noble had shown a certain interest in Merlin, but every time, it has made Arthur inexplicably  _ angry.  _ Arthur didn’t like that sickening pit of worry he felt in his stomach whenever someone leered at Merlin. And it was always a Lord. 

“Merlin has much to assist me with with the feast coming tonight. I will have him send Genevieve to tend to your fire.” Arthur replied, hoping that the excuse wouldn’t be questioned. 

The Lord’s face fell for a moment before he bowed and his smile returned, although it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Thank you, sire. I look forward to the feast tonight,” he said, eyes sliding back towards Merlin, whose eyes were fixed on the floor. 

When Lord Henry had gone, Arthur felt like he could breathe again. 

* * *

“Have George accompany Genevieve when she goes to Lord Henry’s chambers,” Arthur instructed as Merlin was moving towards the door. 

“Arthur, it’s a waste of time to go track them down. Why not just have me tend to—”

“Merlin, just do as I say. When you’re done, I need you to help me get ready for the feast. Don’t be late. ”

Merlin paused, debating on whether or not he should challenge Arthur, but decided against it. It wasn’t right, but Merlin was immensely grateful that someone else was being ordered to help Lord Henry. Merlin really didn’t like that man. 

Merlin burst through the doors to the council room, breaking into a light sprint. He was intent on finding Genevieve and George as quickly as possible, in case Lord Henry gets easily impatient. 

As Merlin rounded the corner, he was shocked to find Lord Henry waiting there. A sharp cry escaped from Merlin as the lord snatched Merlin’s wrist and pinned him against the stone wall behind him, his other hand covering Merlin’s mouth. 

“So the rumors are true, then,” Henry hissed with a smirk as Merlin struggled under his grip. “And really, who could blame Arthur? If you were my manservant, I would want to keep you all to myself as well.” 

Cold fear filled Merlin’s mind at the vile words thrown at him. He twisted his arm again, but Henry’s grip on him was too strong. 

“Come now, I need you to rekindle my fire,” the lord sneered, starting to drag Merlin down the hallway. 

Merlin felt another stab of fear and decided that he would not allow himself to remain helpless. He steeled himself for the consequences and kicked out. The lord cried out in surprise and loosened his hold. Merlin gracefully slipped away, racing down the corridor. His heart was pounding, his stomach turning over and over. Merlin was used to lords behaving cruelly, and even harassing him a bit, but none had ever gone so far. 

There was one thing Merlin knew for certain—he was not going to send any servants to Henry’s chambers. If need be, Merlin could defend himself against the lord much better than anyone else in the castle. Merlin could handle it, and soon Yuletime would be over and Henry would leave. No one needed to know. 

Merlin passed Lord Henry’s chambers on his way back to Arthur. The door had been left open, and thorough it, Merlin saw the fire blazing. 

* * *

“Why are you so quiet?” 

Merlin finally looked up. 

“Come on. You’re supposed to be helping me with this speech.”

“I’m concentrating,  _ sire.” _

That wasn’t it. Arthur knew that wasn’t it. Merlin always knew the right thing to say, with his annoying wisdom that only came forward when arthur needed it most. No, Arthur could tell that Merlin’s mind was elsewhere, and Arthur had an idea as to where. 

“Genevieve will be fine. That’s why I had George accompany her,” Arthur said, trying but failing to catch Merlin’s gaze. 

“I know,” Merlin said quietly. 

Arthur wondered if he should say more, but then thought better of it. 

“Let’s take a break. I need to change for the feast, anyways.” 

Merlin nodded, springing forward to gather up Arthur’s formal ensemble. As Merlin helped Arthur get dressed, Arthur’s eyes caught on Merlin’s right arm as he lifted it and the sleeve fell back. 

“Merlin, what’s that?”

“What’s what, sire?”

“Are those  _ bruises _ ?” Arthur asked, taking Merlin’s arm lightly but firmly. 

Rage filled Arthur’s chest as he inspected the purple marks on Merlin’s wrist. Gods, they looked like a  _ handprint _ . Had someone—?

“Oh, it’s nothing, Arthur. Really. You know how clumsy I can be,” Merlin said, eyes failing to meet Arthur’s. 

“ _ Merlin.  _ Did someone do this to you? You can tell me.” 

“No. I didn’t even notice they were there. I bruise easily… I must’ve accidentally done it to myself.”

Arthur wanted to believe him, but something felt so  _ wrong.  _ But Merlin had turned away, smile plastered on and claiming that he finally had an idea for the speech. 

_ Fine,  _ Arthur thought.  _ I’ll just have to keep you out of trouble myself.  _

* * *

Merlin was determined not to enjoy himself at the feast. However, the dining hall looked gorgeous, filled with beautiful decorations and trays of flourishing fruit and hearty meat sent delightful smells into the air. Merlin couldn’t help but smile as he topped off the knight’s drinks, especially since Gwaine was so determined to get Merlin in on their conversation. 

“Merlin, Leon tells me he’s never had a drink with you at the tavern. I say, we should all head down there later to continue the celebrations,” Gwaine suggested loudly, eyebrow waggling. 

“A fantastic feast in the king’s court isn’t a good enough celebration for you, is it, Gwaine?” Merlin teased as he refilled Leon’s goblet.

Gwaine just shook his head. “No, mate. Y’see, there’s no mead, and  _ you _ don’t get to drink.”

Although Merlin could tell Gwaine was a bit tipsy from the wine already, he felt touched that his friend wanted to celebrate with him. 

“I think Gwaine just wants to get you drunk,” Percival said, giving Gwaine a nudge. 

Merlin laughed. “I don’t believe any of you would like to see that.”

“Oh, come now, Merlin. Have a little fun, will you?” Elyan jabbed, dark eyes glinting mischievously over his goblet. 

“Fine. But none of you are going to get me drunk.”

Merlin had way too much on his mind to let himself go like that, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t spend time with his friends. Plus, Merlin didn’t want to disappoint Gwaine tonight. It was a party, after all. Merlin took a step back from the knights, still holding the pitcher of wine to his chest. 

He settled for simply observing the feast: Gaius was speaking with Geoffrey, probably about some form of research they were partaking in. Arthur was caught up in a conversation with Lord Grey and Lady Belfrey, and Guinevere was watching the exchange fondly. Every so often, Arthur would lock eyes with her and smile softly, and her face would somehow brighten even more. The knights suddenly roared with laughter at some shared joke, and Merlin smiled to himself. How lucky he felt to be surrounded by so many wonderful people. 

The conversations began to lull and Merlin turned to look back at Arthur, who was now standing. He began speech that Merlin had mostly written all of, since the royal dollop-head was quite frankly a horrible writer. It was a good speech, if Merlin did say so himself, and the guests seemed to think so too. Everyone stood and applauded Arthur as the speech ended, and soon the knights were leading Merlin out of the dining hall and down to the tavern. 

* * *

It seemed that quite a few of Arthur’s guests had the same idea. The tavern was full to the brim and then some--a mixture of folk from the lower town and nobles from the feast. Even Arthur had now joined their group, and now Merlin was laughing hysterically at Gwaine’s drunken gambling with the king. 

“Gwaine, you’re out of your head. You should really withdraw. I’m not even sure you can even pay what you already owe me.”

“No, no, no. A knight never draws from a fight,” Gwaine slurred stubbornly. 

Merlin almost felt bad for Arthur. He doesn’t know Gwaine like Merlin does, and Gwaine was quite obviously making a show of his drunkenness to throw Arthur off. In the next round, Merlin had a feeling that Gwaine would completely change his demeanor and come out as the winner, and possibly hurting Arthur’s pride more than it could bounce back from. It was all incredibly entertaining, so Merlin let it play out. 

“More mead for everyone!” A voice called out, and the entire tavern erupted into screams of triumph and joy. 

Mary began passing out pints to everyone, even Merlin, who she knew rarely ever drank. Merlin sighed and accepted it, knowing that whoever had paid for the round of drinks might take offense. The next round of the dice game began and Merlin watched gleefully as Arthur walked into the trap that Gwaine had set up for him. Soon the alcohol had loosened Merlin up even more, until he was crying of laughter at Arthur’s looks of disapproval. The knights were in uproar all around him, and Merlin didn’t think he had ever laughed so hard. 

It was only when Merlin had reached the halfway point in his drink that things started to feel off. The voices filling the tavern seemed to grow in volume and blend together and suddenly every sound hurt Merlin’s head. His vision toppled and it became harder to stand. Was he really that drunk? No, that wasn’t possible… He hadn’t even finished his pint. Merlin’s mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. He turned back towards the bar, intent on asking Mary for some water, before someone grabbed hold of his arm. 

Merlin couldn’t look up at whoever it was because the room was spinning and he thought he might be sick and so he watched his own feet be led away from the bar, away from his friends and outside into the night. Whoever held Merlin upright was walking at a brisk pace and Merlin could barely keep up, could barely see, could barely breathe--

“You have proved yourself quite difficult to get alone, hm? I must say I have enjoyed our little game. I love it when they fight back.”

Merlin froze, his feet skidding to a clumsy stop.  _ No, not that voice please no-- _

“But the fighting is over now. I grew tired of simply watching your pretty face from afar and I just had to have you for myself.”

Merlin’s stomach clenched dangerously as his tunneling vision turned upwards, right into the face of Lord Henry, who was the only thing holding Merlin upright. 

It took a few tries before Merlin’s mind supplied the right words, “y-you… drugg’d me…”

“I had to. You were too tempting  _ not _ to take. And when you fought me off like that, I knew I’d have to catch you off-guard.”

Merlin groaned, cursing his own foolishness. The one night he actually had a drink… Merlin twisted suddenly, trying to wrench himself from the lord’s grip. Henry only tightened his grasp, and Merlin cried out. He was slammed against a wall again, this time it jarred his ribs and drove the air from his lungs. Henry was suddenly too close to Merlin, hissing in his ear.

“Don’t fight me this time. I found it amusing once, but I will not be so merciful tonight.”

_ Too close too close too close _ , Merlin’s mind screamed at him.

Merlin reached for his magic to get the vile man off him, but he couldn’t seem to grasp it. Perhaps the drug was subduing it somehow? Or perhaps Merlin’s brain just simply couldn’t focus. Whatever the case, Merlin had never felt so helpless in his life. His stomach roiled with disgust as the lord ripped his neckerchief off him and cast it to the ground, showering his exposed neck with unwanted kisses. Merlin tried to squirm away, to call for help, but Henry had a death-like grip on him and pinned him to the wall, and Merlin could only whisper.

“Stop it… stop…”

Henry merely laughed, fingers hooking on the edge of Merlin’s trousers.

“Why would I stop when I’ve only just begun?”


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur had never felt so betrayed in his entire life. Gwaine had  _ tricked  _ him, and now Arthur had to pay for it. As he handed too many coins over to the smug knight, Arthur chastised himself for getting caught up in the game. After all, he wasn’t planning on even coming down to the tavern tonight, but when he saw that Merlin was going, Arthur felt that he should join them. He had, as Merlin would say, a ‘funny feeling.’ Besides, Arthur had made a silent vow to watch after Merlin after his strange behavior earlier, especially after their encounter with Lord Henry, which still made Arthur shudder. 

So when Arthur turned to look towards the edge of the gambling table where Merlin had been standing a mere few minutes ago, his blood turned cold. Merlin wasn’t there. Arthur felt his heartbeat quicken as his gaze traveled frantically around the crowded room. The king shook his head. He was being irrational. Not even  _ Merlin  _ could run into trouble in such a populated space, and yet Arthur’s sense of unease wouldn’t let up. 

Perhaps Merlin had simply gone for another drink. Arthur began to push through the sea of people, mumbling absent-minded apologies when he almost trampled a few peasants in his haste. The king’s gaze locked on Mary, who was serving drinks from behind the counter. 

“Mary, have you seen Merlin?” Arthur shouted over the noise. 

“Not for a while, your highness. I don’t think he could quite handle his mead,” Mary replied, looking sympathetic.

“What makes you say that?”

“Oh, well, he hadn’t even finished half a pint before he went all pale and just about fell over. I was coming to help him, but that other gentleman--”

“Other gentleman?” Arthur’s stomach twisted up so tight it hurt. 

“A nobleman, I presume. He helped the poor lad outside for some fresh air.”

Arthur took off, tumbling out the door that Mary had pointed to. He hoped he was just overreacting, but that unsettling pit in his stomach that now spread to his chest suggested that Merlin was in trouble, and a certain nobleman had something to do with it. Arthur felt like a failure--it was his job to look after Merlin, and now… gods know what could happen. 

The night was tranquil, and the moon shone brightly down on Camelot. The pretense of the perfect evening made Arthur hopelessly angry, and he kicked at the dirt beneath him… the dirt that showed signs of a small scuffle. Heart jumping, Arthur bent down, seeing two sets of tracks. One steady set of boot-prints were larger and deeply embedded in the ground, while the other were light and scattered. They didn’t look like footsteps, really, but more like this person was half-dragged down the alley. 

Arthur thanked the heavens for his tracking skills as he followed the two sets of prints away from the tavern. The trail wound through a labyrinth of alleyways, and it seemed to get darker and darker the deeper Arthur went. He began to wonder if maybe he had made the wrong turn before he heard a small, strangled cry from around the next corner. Arthur pressed himself against the wall, straining to hear.

“--I’ve only just begun,” a voice hissed. “Don’t look away from me. I want to see those irresistible blue eyes.”

Arthur rounded the corner before his mind could even catch up with him; he had been fuelled entirely by the rage that ignited in his body. Oh, he was going to  _ destroy  _ Lord Henry for even  _ looking  _ at Merlin. The sight that greeted Arthur when his eyes adjusted to the darkness made his skin crawl. Merlin was pinned to the wall, and Lord Henry  _ loomed  _ over him, holding him there,  _ touching  _ him--

“Step away from him. Now,” Arthur demanded, every ounce of anger and hatred pouring into his voice, but somehow he still sounded steady as a rock.

Arthur heard the sickening sound of a blade being unsheathed. Henry moved quicker than Arthur would have expected, and suddenly Merlin was held in front of Henry, who  _ cowered  _ behind Merlin, a wicked knife pressed to his throat and an arm wrapped around Merlin’s chest. Merlin gasped, but his eyes wouldn’t focus and he didn’t seem to be completely aware of what was going on. He was visibly shivering, his neckerchief cast to the ground and his tunic almost completely torn off. Arthur clenched his fists. Merlin could barely stand and it looked like he was leaning on Henry for support. 

“Don’t move, or I’ll slit his throat.”

Arthur gritted his teeth, wondering if he could get away with murdering this man. He was sure no one would miss him. But he had to be smart about this--Merlin’s life was on the line, and Arthur was weaponless. The king opted for raising his hands in surrender.

“Think about what you’re doing, Lord Henry. He’s just a servant. This isn’t worth his life. Just let him go, and I’ll forget this ever happened.”

“Oh, please,” the lord sneered, letting out a bellowing laugh. “I know the rumors. He’s more than just a servant to you. I know you won’t let me go. I say, you should learn to share your pretty little playthings with others. I promise to be gentle with him if you leave us now.”

Arthur could only watch as the lord trailed his free hand through Merlin’s dark hair before roughly grasping it and forcing his head up higher, exposing Merlin’s neck further and drawing a startled cry. Arthur felt sick as he watched a small trickle of blood run down Merlin’s neck, he felt sick at the vile words, at the man standing before him,  _ preying  _ on his best friend. Did Henry  _ actually think _ \--? 

“Please, just put the knife down,” Arthur pleaded, running out of ideas. 

The sight before him disturbed Arthur more than he had thought possible. And Henry thought that  _ Arthur  _ could do something like that to Merlin? To use him in that way? Merlin, who was gentle and compassionate and so endearing that he wormed his way into the heart of anyone who ever got to know him. Merlin, who selflessly threw himself into battle after battle with nothing more than the clothes on his back and undying trust towards his companions. Merlin, who deserved this the least and who still seemed to be taken advantage of time and time again by people that  _ Arthur  _ had allowed to get too close to him. 

Arthur suddenly felt heat in the corners of his eyes and trailing down his cheeks as he locked eyes with Merlin, whose eyes had cracked open and were gazing blearily back at Arthur.

“Arth’r… s’okay,” Merlin slurred, his voice softer than Arthur had ever heard it before. 

Arthur’s head shook violently. 

“No, Merlin. It’s not. Henry, if you don’t put the blade down--”

Henry moved so fast, and Arthur cried out, but he was  _ too slow always too slow _ and he could only rush forward as the wicked man pulled the knife away from Merlin’s throat and jabbed it into Merlin’s side before disappearing in the darkness of the alley. Arthur’s heart stopped as Merlin gasped in pain and pitched forward, and Arthur caught him on the way down but he accidentally jostled the knife and Merlin whimpered and Arthur hated that sound because Merlin didn’t deserve this, he didn’t  _ deserve it-- _

They were both on the ground now, Merlin’s shuddering gasps of air filling the quiet night, and Arthur pulled Merlin farther onto his lap and peeled his jacket off, covering Merlin’s shivering form with it. Merlin’s shaking hand weakly grabbed Arthur’s wrist, and now Arthur was full-on sobbing and he didn’t even care because Merlin had been stabbed and it was Arthur’s fault.

“Merlin, I’m so sorry--”

“Not… fault…” Merlin gasped.

Arthur shook his head, eyes catching on the hilt of the dagger still embedded in his friend’s side.

“I should have protected you better. I knew he was bad news and… Merlin don’t close your eyes. Hey, stay awake,” Arthur demanded, on the edge of panic. 

Merlin’s eyes fluttered open again, but his eyes were growing cloudier and his face paler. His grip on Arthur’s wrist loosened, but Arthur grabbed his hand firmly. 

“Merlin, you are the most stubborn clotpole in all the five kingdoms. You’re going to be alright.”

Merlin’s mouth curled up into a small smile, and Arthur thought maybe he would be okay, but then his eyes slid closed and Arthur might’ve sobbed again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for your reviews! I hope you enjoyed this update. More to come soon!


	3. Chapter 3

Gwaine had been the first to find them. The knights had gone out in search of their missing friends when they stumbled upon a shady, disheveled-looking lord who wouldn’t answer any direct questions before mumbling an excuse and disappearing into the night. They spread out, searching the area when Gwaine called frantically called for help. Arthur was openly crying, clutching Merlin like a lifeline, who lay unconscious in a pool of his own blood.

Gwaine had never felt more terrified than in that moment, and he was vaguely aware that Percival had to gently pry Merlin from Arthur’s death-like grip to carry him back to Gaius. Leon then leaned over and whispered something to Arthur, before taking his arm and helping him stand. The king nodded his thanks, batting furiously at the corners of his eyes. The knights all hastily followed Percival back to the castle, blood roaring in their ears as they all wondered what had happened.

* * *

“What happened?” Gaius demanded as Percival placed Merlin gently on the patient’s cot.

The old physician leaned over Merlin’s prone form, checking his pulse. Everyone’s gaze turned to Arthur, whose eyes were still red.

“Lord Henry, he—” Arthur swallowed, trying to regain a sense of kingliness, but he felt so small. “He drugged Merlin… stabbed him…”

“Oh, my boy,” Gaius whispered brokenly, fingers running softly through Merlin’s hair.

Then he turned, rushing towards his shelves full of tonics and delivering orders.

“I need someone to find the source of the drug. I cannot treat him fully until I know what is in his system. Sire, do you have any idea how he was drugged?”

Arthur thought through the roaring in his mind. “I believe it was in his drink.”

“Gwaine and I will try to find it,” Percival offered.

“And Leon and I will ensure that Lord Henry is secured in the dungeons,” Elyan said, spitting out the lord’s name like it was a disease.

Gaius nodded absentmindedly, his eyes on his ward. As the knights hastened from the room, Gwaine gave Arthur a meaningful touch on the shoulder. The king nodded gratefully before turning his gaze back on Merlin, whose pale brow was furrowed in pain and drenched in sweat, despite his constant shivers.

“Come hold his nose for me, Sire.”

Arthur complied, and Gaius poured something down Merlin's throat.

“Swallow it, Merlin. This will help dull the pain.”

Merlin swallowed reflexively, then deflated back into the cot, his features finally relaxing a bit.

“Help me hold him down.”

Gaius’s hand curled around the knife. Arthur’s heart clenched at the pitiful sound Merlin made in his restless sleep, but he swallowed and gripped his friend’s shoulders.

“Keep him as still as possible. I don’t want to accidentally open the wound any further,” Gaius instructed.

Arthur nodded, heart sinking.

_My fault, my fault, my fault… _

And then Gaius was pulling the blade out of Merlin’s side with a sickening sound, and Merlin was suddenly crying out, now wide awake. Arthur could see the pain and utter panic in his cloudy eyes and his heart ached all over again as he held him down. Merlin moaned, weakly batting at Arthur’s strong arms, sweat glistening on his face with the effort.

“St’p… please…” Merlin begged, voice barely a whisper and yet too loud for Arthur’s pounding head.

Arthur thought he’d be glad to see Merlin awake, but this was so much worse. Merlin shivered uncontrollably, and he kept trying to move away from Arthur, which scared the hell out of him because Merlin never backed down from anything but now Merlin was afraid of Arthur and it made him feel sick.

“I need to gather supplies. Put pressure on his wound,” Gaius said, directing Arthur’s hands to Merlin’s side and handing him a bandage to press down on.

Arthur gritted his teeth and pushed down, using one hand to keep Merlin as still as possible but still the idiot tried to writhe out of his grip. He was panting now, his eyes wild but still glazed over.

“Wh-what d’you wan’ from me?” Merlin whispered, tears suddenly falling.

_Oh._ Arthur could smack himself. Merlin had been drugged, kidnapped and stabbed and now appeared to have no recollection that he had been rescued. He probably thought that Henry still held him captive.

“Merlin, look. You’re safe. It’s just me, Arthur.” Merlin’s demeanor didn’t change, and his weak sobs almost sent Arthur over the edge. “Merlin, can you hear me?”

But the pain from Arthur pushing down on the open wound, now paired with the blood loss and panic had to have been too much, because Merlin’s unfocused eyes rolled up and he went slack again, melting away into the cot. Arthur bit his lip, calling out frantically to Gaius, who was already approaching the pair.

“He just passed out again,” Arthur informed, trying and failing to mask the nervousness in his voice.

“It’s alright. He needs to rest, and it would only be unpleasant for him remain conscious,” Gaius replied, gently but firmly removing Arthur’s hands from the wound and beginning to dress it.

And if he noticed that the king’s now blood-covered hands were shaking, Gaius said nothing.

The old door then flew open as Gwaine and Percival all but launched themselves into the room.

“Mary said this was Merlin’s mug,” Percival said, holding it out for Gaius to take.

The physician went to work, extracting a sample from the remaining liquid and dropping it into a small cauldron over an open flame.

“We ran into Elyan on our way back here,” Gwaine said, eyes fixed on Merlin, “a pair of guards caught the bastard trying to steal a horse in a pathetic attempt to escape. He and Leon made sure he was thrown in the dungeon.”

Arthur knew that Gwaine could be very protective over Merlin, but never before had he heard so much venom in his voice before. He practically spat his words. Arthur felt just as angry, but he was also flooded with relief at the news that the coward hadn’t managed to escape. Lord Henry was in for a world of hurt. Arthur must’ve lost himself in his thoughts because suddenly Gwaine was there, standing over Merlin and frowning.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared. When I first found the two of you, I mean.”

Arthur nodded in silent agreement. The whole ordeal still scared the hell out of him.

“I’m glad you came when you did.”

Then Gaius forced himself between them, ordering Arthur to hold Merlin’s nose again as he poured another potion down his throat.

“This will help flush the drug from his system. Gwaine, Percival, thank you for your help. Now, please, let me work. You can come see him when he wakes.”

His authoritative eyebrow left no room for argument, and the knights reluctantly took their leave.

“I’ll come find you both when he wakes,” Arthur said as they departed.

The room fell silent as Gaius directed all of his attention to his surrogate son, and Arthur watched, occasionally doing small tasks as instructed. Then Gaius started stitching up the wound. Even with the pain medicine, Merlin’s face tightened into a frown, his head occasionally turning from side-to-side. Arthur’s hand seemed to move on its own and gently grasped Merlin’s, hoping to provide a small comfort. Merlin still looked to be in pain, but he seemed to relax, if only slightly. Gaius skillfully tied off the stitches and cleaned the wound again, before standing to wash the blood off his hands. Arthur grimaced, not wanting to know how much of his friend’s blood was on his own hands. He let go of Merlin’s hand.

Then Gaius was back, his gaze on Merlin’s now peaceful face and his hands running soothingly through his ward’s dark hair.

“Gaius… Will he be alright?”

Gaius looked up for the first time, as if he was just noticing that Arthur was still there. The old man sighed.

“I don’t know, sire. We won’t know until he wakes. But Merlin is very strong,” he replied, voice brimming with affection.

Arthur nodded. As often as he said otherwise, Arthur knew it was true. In fact, Merlin was probably the strongest person he knew, though Arthur would never admit it out loud.

“It’s a good thing you left the knife in. Otherwise, he might’ve bled out, especially with a drug thinning his blood.”

Arthur nodded again, though his expression was blank. The knife should never have even _touched_ Merlin. Arthur only came to the tavern to keep an eye on him, and he failed to simply do the bare minimum.

“You did well, sire.”

Arthur shook his head. “It was my fault. I had a feeling that snake was targeting him, but I still failed to protect him.”

“Don’t you see? You _did_ protect him. You and the knights brought him here. You saved his life,” the old man sighed, suddenly looking weary. “My question is, why had he been singled out?”

Arthur’s stomach roiled at the mere thought of it, and there must’ve been something revealing in Arthur’s expression because the physician paled a bit.

“What did my fool boy do this time?”

Arthur smiled a bit at that, but it quickly turned sour.

“He did nothing, Gaius. Lord Henry sought him out—preyed on him. I noticed something was wrong when he asked specifically for Merlin to tend to his hearth, and then later I saw bruises on his wrist and he was acting all jumpy. I should’ve sent Henry away after that…”

Gaius was quiet, his expression pensive as he gazed at Merlin’s sleeping face. There was a deep melancholy in those ancient eyes, something that Arthur couldn't help but wonder at. His neck tingled with goosebumps as he got the impression that this was not new information—that Gaius had heard it all before. That _Merlin_ had been through something like this before. And it terrified Arthur.

“Has something like this happened before?” Arthur whispered, the burning question ripped out of him.

Gaius looked shocked for a moment, as if he hadn’t been expecting Arthur to put that together.

“It… it’s not for me to say, Sire.”

And that was all Gaius offered before closing up, eyes stormy with concealed memories as he clasped Merlin’s slack hand.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur hadn’t even realized he’d dozed off until the light of dawn pried at his eyelids. He rubbed at his eyes, letting out a sigh as he sat up. Only then did he recognize that he was already sitting up in a creaky old chair next to Merlin, who was lying in the patient’s cot with a pouty look on his sleeping face. Arthur felt a fond smile flit across his face as he swept Merlin’s dark hair aside. 

The movement made the soreness in Arthur’s neck known, and he huffed in frustration as he rubbed his neck. He didn’t mean to spend the night here, especially not in a rickety old  _ chair  _ all night.

“The things I do for you, you dollophead,” Arthur whispered. 

There was no bite to his words, though. Arthur felt only worry for his friend—more like little brother—both physically and emotionally. Merlin still appeared to be in pain despite him being unconscious with painkillers. But that was only part of it. What Gaius had said the night before worried Arthur more than he wanted to admit to himself. How many of Arthur’s guests had treated Merlin in this way? Had targeted him, advanced on him, taken  _ advantage _ —

Arthur pushed those thoughts from his mind, taking a deep breath. He couldn’t make those conclusions yet. Not until he had spoken to Merlin about it, which would be a whole new challenge. Merlin had a way of deflecting things when it came to talking about himself, and Arthur had come to realize over the years how good he was at it. Arthur had to work hard to keep focused and make sure that Merlin couldn’t slip away or avoid his questioning.

The king glanced up at Gaius’s cot to make sure the old man was still asleep. He was reassured by a deep snore emanating from the physician’s cot. With the confirmation that Arthur wouldn’t be seen, he grasped Merlin’s blanket and pulled it up further on his chest, tucking him in. 

“You’d better wake up soon,” Arthur whispered as he stood. Then as an afterthought, “my clothes need washing.”

And then, with a final glance at his friend, the king quietly exited the physician’s chambers. He had important business to attend to.

* * *

  
  


“Ah, your majesty. I was wondering when I would be seeing you. I must say, you have looked better.”

Arthur grit his teeth as he gazed at the monster of a man leering at him from inside his cell. If he wasn’t the king, the man’s head would have already been removed from his miserable shoulders.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Arthur bit out, pouring every ounce of hatred he harbored for Lord Henry in his voice.

“Oh, please. I was thinking how most nobles do. Surely, you can understand. After all, why else would you have such a useless but _pleasurable _eyepiece as a servant for so many years? What else are servants for?” Lord Henry shrugged then, a mischievous glint in his eye as if he had merely played a harmless prank. 

“You could’ve killed him.”

“Ah, but I didn’t. I merely wounded him, as I know you have a skilled physician at your disposal. Come now, I’m sure we can look past this little mishap. He’s just a serving boy, after all.”

Arthur clenched his fists. If one more person said that to him he might just snap. 

“I warned you to let him go back in that alley, and you  _ stabbed  _ him. I should have you executed.”

A flicker of fear passed over Henry’s face, but faded with a twisted smile.

“Don’t act all high and mighty. We nobles are all the same. People talk, you know, of your strange attachment to the boy. Some believe it to be fondness, but I know how it really is,” the lord sneered, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

And Arthur wanted to vomit.

“You know nothing of nobility. You exploit your power over others and use it in this vile way. It won’t be tolerated here in Camelot,” Arthur watched Henry’s entire body shake with the authority of his words. “I will make an example of you. Tomorrow you will be executed in the public square.”

The king turned away from the man as he gaped in disbelief. He felt his fingernails digging into the soft flesh of his hand, but the pain of it helped him hold his temper. Otherwise, he would have been beating Lord Henry senseless.

“I demand a trial, Pendragon!” Henry roared, all playfulness gone from his voice. He was now enraged and afraid, just as Arthur wanted him to be. 

The king stopped, turning slowly back to the crook in his prison. 

“You have already been found guilty. I doubt you will even be missed.” 

And then Arthur was gone. 

* * *

Merlin felt like he was floating. But not in a good, euphoric sort of way. No, for him, there was a disconnect between his mind and body. He could feel his limbs there—thankfully—but his brain felt as if it was floating somewhere above him, making it annoyingly difficult for him to move. He heard a strained noise leave his lips and mentally kicked himself for somehow being able to use his voice but nothing else. 

“—lin? Do you think he’s waking up?” 

If Merlin could roll his eyes, he would. 

“Merlin. Can you open your eyes?”

Merlin recognized Gaius’s voice, and he picked up on the concealed tone of worry in it. That seemed to slap some sensibility into Merlin’s uncooperative brain, and he found himself slowly lifting his eyelids. The light was harsh, and he winced as it drove spikes into his head.

“I know it hurts, but we have to get some food and medicine in you before you go back to sleep,” Gaius coaxed.

Merlin slowly opened his eyes again, still wincing at the light but he was able to keep them open, his gaze resting on Gaius and Gwaine hovering over him. 

“Gaius, what—”

Pain spiked in his abdomen, drilling deeply into him so suddenly that he gasped aloud, eyes frantically seeking out Gaius’s steady gaze.

“Easy, Merlin. Gwaine, help me sit him up.”

Gwaine nodded, gingerly gripping Merlin’s arms and lifting him with surprising tenderness.

“Good to see you awake, mate,” Gwaine said.

“Yeah, erm… what happened, exactly?” 

Gwaine and Gaius exchanged glances. 

“What do you remember?”

Merlin opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. His throat was so dry it burned, and he broke into a coughing fit. The fit wracked his body, ripping at the biting pain in his stomach.  _ What the hell happened? _

Merlin’s coughing mercifully subsided and Gaius handed him a cup of water. Merlin’s hand shook, but Gaius helped him keep the cup steady while Merlin greedily drank the soothing liquid. 

“Thanks,” Merlin said after his last gulp. “My throat was so dry.”

“That is an after-effect of the drug in your system. Now, hold still while I change your bandages—”

“ _ Drug?  _ What drug? And what bandages? How drunk did I get last night?”

Merlin’s mind was reeling. What if he had gotten so drunk that he did something stupid? He could’ve revealed his secret, or let something happen to Arthur. How could he have let himself go like that? Gwaine shifted uncomfortably, drawing Merlin’s attention away from his own musings.

“Merlin… you weren’t drunk. It was Lord Henry. He attacked you,” Gwaine said with an uncharacteristically small voice. 

Merlin’s heart stuttered in his chest when he thought of how Lord Henry had sought him out, attacked him in the hallway, and then last night in the tavern he had been overcome with a sudden sickness… Merlin swallowed down a rush of nausea. 

“I remember suddenly feeling strange after drinking a bit of mead, and someone dragged me outside,” Merlin breathed slowly, pushing down the panic building in his chest. “I don’t remember anything after that. What—what did he do to me?”

Merlin tried and failed to keep the desperation out of his voice, but he didn’t have the strength to care all that much. His wound was burning increasingly with his pounding heart and his head was killing him. It felt like he was trying to think through a pool of molasses; his brain just wouldn’t supply him with the memories he needed and he felt sick at the possibility of what might’ve happened to him in the hands of Lord Henry. 

“Merlin, calm down, it’s alright. Arthur and the knights found you before any real harm could be done,” Gaius soothed, resting a hand on Merlin’s forehead.

Merlin glanced down at the wound in his gut and raised a questioning eyebrow at his surrogate father. 

“You know what I mean.”

The tension in the room was broken as the three launched into light laughter. Gaius began redressing Merlin’s wound, while Gwaine distracted him with mindless chatter. The physician even managed to get a potion and some soup into Merlin with minimal complaints. The chatter began to lull as Merlin’s eyes drooped, but the warlock wasn’t quite able to let his inner turmoil go just yet. As if summoned, Arthur entered the room with an air of authority and anger that admittedly filled Merlin with apprehension. But he visibly deflated as his eyes locked on to Merlin’s, and relief flooded his features. 

“Merlin! You’re awake!”

“No, I’m the ghost come back to haunt you,” Merlin deadpanned, earning an eye roll from the king. 

“Back to feeling like your idiot self, then.”

“Not quite. He still has a long way to go before he is fully healed,” Gaius interrupted, delivering a stern look to both men. “Now, I have to make my rounds. Merlin, you’d better be resting when I return, or else I might have to slip something into your tea.” 

And with that, the elderly physician left the room. 

“Well, that was frightening. It’s almost like he doesn’t trust you,” Gwaine said with a smirk. 

“Can you blame him?  _ Mer _ lin never does as he’s told.”

“I’m right here!” Merlin said incredulously. 

He winced as he jostled his wound, causing it to flare up in pain. He sucked in a breath, hoping it would go unnoticed. But by the looks on Arthur and Gwaine’s faces, Merlin could tell he hadn’t been successful. 

“I am glad you’re alright,” Arthur said, settling down on Gaius’s stool. “You gave us quite a scare.”

Merlin looked down at his hands. “I don’t really remember what happened. I just know I have you to thank for saving me.”

A pained look flashed across Arthur’s features. Was that guilt? 

“I’m sorry that it had even been necessary at all. I had a feeling that Lord Henry was a threat to you, but I failed to take necessary precautions. You got hurt because of my ignorance.”

Merlin didn’t know what he was expecting from Arthur, but it certainly wasn’t an  _ apology.  _ Merlin didn’t even think the word “sorry” was in the king’s vocabulary. 

“Arthur, this wasn’t your fault—”

“But it  _ was _ , Merlin. Henry was my guest, and you are my servant—my responsibility. How can I seek to protect an entire kingdom when I can’t even protect  _ you _ ?”

Merlin wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation, since it was Merlin’s job to protect  _ Arthur _ . But Merlin couldn’t hide behind another joke— _ not this time.  _ Because this time it had been too close, Merlin had been helpless and something beyond horrible would’ve happened if Arthur hadn’t been there to stop it. 

“You’re just one man, Arthur. You’re not to blame,” Merlin whispered. 

“Neither are you.” Merlin looked up then, shocked eyes meeting Arthur’s steady ones. “I know you, Merlin. For whatever reason, you blame yourself for what happened. But that snake planned a way to catch us all off-guard. He drugged you, for heaven’s sake. You’re not at fault.”

“If anything, the bastard lurking in the cells is where we should be placing the blame,” Gwaine said with clenched fists. 

“So he’s been caught, then?” Merlin asked, relief relaxing muscles he didn’t even know were tense. 

“Yes. He is to be punished for his crimes tomorrow at first light,” Arthur announced, a cold look darkening his features. 

“You’ve already decided what to do with him?”

Arthur nodded, the cold look not leaving his face. It chilled Merlin. He looked a bit like Uther. 

“He is to be executed.”

Merlin drew in an involuntary sharp gasp, sending him spiraling into another coughing fit. He felt two pairs of hands on his shoulders, steadying him as he pitched forward. Tears leaked from his eyes as he tried to catch his breath, and each movement pulled at his stitches in his side. 

“Woah there, Merlin. Here, have some more water,” Gwaine said as Merlin’s coughing subsided. 

Merlin let himself be eased back against his pillows, and he accepted the cup of water to soothe his burning throat. His eyesight was blurry now, his head spinning.

“A-Arthur, you can’t kill him,” Merlin croaked, voice barely above a whisper. 

He couldn’t even bring himself to say Henry’s name, but he didn’t think the man deserved to die.

“I need to make an example of him, Merlin. People need to know that this kind of behavior won’t be tolerated by me.”

“I’m with the Princess on this one, mate. He tried to  _ kill  _ you—”

“I don’t want any more bloodshed on my account. Banish him if you have to, but killing him won’t solve anything.”

“How can you not want revenge after what he did to you?” Arthur demanded, his voice getting louder as Merlin’s grew quieter.

Merlin shook his head, ignoring the aching pain residing there. “Revenge is what corrupts the hearts of men. I’ve seen it too often—”

“Dammit Merlin! I don’t ever want this to happen to you again. I can’t punish those who came for you in the past unless you tell me about them, but I can start with Henry.” 

Merlin froze, eyes dropping to the floor, burning with unshed tears. The air was heavy with silence, sucking the air out of his lungs.

“What?” he whispered on a hitched breath.

Then Arthur was closer, resting his hand on Merlin’s arm. His voice quieted significantly, and the coldness had fled from his features, leaving only compassion.

“Gaius was acting strange last night, and I finally pieced some things together. He wouldn’t tell me anything, but I know that something like this has happened before.”

“Merlin...” Gwaine whispered.

Merlin shook his head, loosening the tears building in his eyes. He felt Gwaine lay a hand on his other shoulder, giving him the courage he needed to respond. 

“There have been… incidents in the past, but none as extreme as—as Henry, I swear.”

Arthur sighed, letting his head drop a bit.

“Why did you never tell me? You know I could’ve easily sorted things out.”

“It just comes with being a servant. I can’t just accuse a noble. That would only make matters worse.”

“That may have been true under my father’s reign, but not anymore. If you ever feel unsafe in your own castle, you tell me about it. Understood?” 

Merlin nodded, a small smile blossoming. Arthur squeezed Merlin’s arm gently before releasing him. 

“Arthur, please. Don’t execute him.”

Arthur sighed, but he looked more willing to listen this time. “Why must you be so forgiving?”

“We’ve been down this road before. I know forgiveness is harder than seeking revenge, but revenge only brings destruction—just take a look at Morgana. Don’t go down that path too. Promise me, Arthur. Please.”

Arthur exchanged a baffled look with Gwaine, before sighing again. Merlin blinked, his eyelids growing heavy.

“I’m going to regret this, but I promise, Merlin. Stubborn bastard.” 

Merlin let out a hum of relief, giving in to the pull of sleep. He was out before Arthur and Gwaine stood, deciding on banishing the creep from Camelot forever. He didn’t feel Arthur tuck him in again, or hear the group of knights—his friends—lead a certain prisoner to the edge of Camelot’s lands, nor the punch delivered to his face by a certain long-haired knight. No, Merlin was sleeping safely and soundly, his fears forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I finally finished my first fanfic woohoo!


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